


Missing Piece

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Farscape
Genre: Character Study, Episode: s02e05 The Way We Weren't, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I can’t believe I’m writing Farscape fic in 2020, I can’t believe the episode I’m writing about aired 20 years ago, Missing Scene, mentions of gore, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24649195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: A missing scene from “The Way We Weren’t” to bridge the gap between Aeryn breaking down in John’s arms and the two of them finally starting to talk.
Relationships: John Crichton/Aeryn Sun
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Missing Piece

Aeryn’s bare fists collide with the leather of her punching bag. It’s solid, but not in the way of metal or rock. It’s more like hitting a body. It falls. It pivots back up at her. 

Another hit. 

And another. 

Another. 

In battle, there’s no room for feelings. When Officer Sun has a problem she fights it, guns and fists first, questions hidden away in the back of her mind where she’ll never have to examine them. 

Another hit. 

Officer Sun’s hands have begun to bleed. Good. 

A hit. 

She’d break every bone in her body if she could. She’s seen her share of blood and guts, much of it shed by creatures more worthy of compassion than she’ll ever be. 

Viscera and disdain. 

Officer Sun forces herself to imagine that it’s the female pilot she’s pulverizing here and now. She imagines punching through her exoskeleton to the softer guts beneath. She imagines the pilot’s face as she tears her apart piece by piece. She imagines bits of the corpse getting in her eyes and hair. The smell of it. 

Each hit is like a heartbeat. They become ragged along with Officer Sun’s breath. 

Having outlived its usefulness, the punching bag falls to the ground. Aeryn falls along with it. Pain shoots up through her knees, but she’s too lost by that point to appreciate it. She’s on all fours like an animal. It’s loud. It takes her a microt to register that she’s hearing her own cries and her own breathing. 

“You making hamburger there?” 

John. 

Aeryn’s not sure if he’s spouting incomprehensible human dren again, or if she’s too far gone to comprehend. One of his hands circles her arm. The other is on her back. A shudder runs through her. She jerks away, but it’s abortive and dumb. He leans down so his face is at level with hers.

“Talk to me. Come on. What happened back then?” 

These words are easier for the translator microbes to unravel, but Aeryn can’t begin to understand the gentleness behind them, and then John is pulling her up into his arms, and her whole body is tight and stiff, as alien as it’d felt back when Namtar had injected her with Pilot’s DNA. 

(John hadn’t turned away from her then, either. He’s remarkably persistent in his loyalty, though Aeryn has done little to earn it.)

Even if Aeryn wanted to answer John, she wouldn’t have been able to. She’s been in the early stages of heat delirium before and felt more in control of herself. If another Peacekeeper had ever witnessed her in these kinds of hysterics they would have shot her and declared it a mercy. Even as a child, if she’d behaved like this, the best she might have expected would have been a smack to shock her back into attention. 

John does nothing of the sort, instead maneuvering her carefully, so that she’s leaning against him. One hand rests steadily on her arm, while the other comes up to cradle her head. Aeryn should put a stop to this, but another sound rips from her throat, and John is hushing her and rocking her the way she’s seen some (lesser) species rock their young, and a part of Aeryn is ashamed but a bigger part of her is afraid he’ll realize how stupid they’re both being and withdraw. 

As a cadet being trained in the art of torture, Aeryn’s commanding officer had once gone on a tangent about how to stave off that moment where the prisoner gave up all resistance. Naively, she’d asked him why they’d want to do that. After all, wasn’t swift and total compliance the end goal of everything they did?

Aeryn’s commander had laughed at that. 

(John kisses the top of her head.)

“There comes a point where they’re beyond feeling or caring. You won’t get anything out of them when they’re like that. Besides, it takes all the fun out of it.” 

Aeryn is reaching that point. She’s gone limp enough that John’s able to relax into a sitting position and bring her down with him. There are still sounds coming out of her, but they’re subdued. Eventually Aeryn is quiet altogether. 

It’s John’s hand on Aeryn’s face that snaps her out of it. He strokes her cheek, perhaps to wipe away the wetness standing there, and an image flashes across Aeryn’s mind— Velorek stroking Pilot’s face to calm him. A shudder runs through Aeryn and she jerks away from Crichton as if he’s just electrocuted her. He loosens his grip enough that she can move away. She’s only able to put a couple of metras between them, but it’s something. Her stomach twists, and it’s a blessing that she doesn’t vomit. 

“Easy now,” John whispers. He reaches for Aeryn, but she shakes her head. “It’s okay. Deep breaths.” 

“No.” 

(That’s a word! It’s hoarse and only dubiously relevant to the situation at hand, but it’s a word nonetheless.)

“I mean, we could just hang out here hyperventilating ‘till you pass out, but I don’t see how that’s gonna help.” 

For several microts, that’s exactly what Aeryn does, even as John sits there watching. She’s starting to get dizzy when John begins to speak to her again. 

“Come on Aeryn. Breathe in for me.” 

(Aeryn does.) 

“Now out. And in. And out. There. That’s right. Gold star. You’ve got this. In and out.” 

Aeryn breathes. She shifts into a more upright sitting position, and she breathes. 

“Talk to me Aeryn.” 

Aeryn swallows. 

“I’m right here waiting.”

Aeryn licks her lips. 

“You can take all the time you need, but pull yourself together and talk to me.” 

Aeryn brings up her hand to touch her cheek in the same spot that John had touched her just a few minutes earlier. 

How is she just now realizing how much like Velorek he is?

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story please comment! I spent all day writing it and comments mean a lot to me. 
> 
> On the off chance that somebody likes this story and wants to check out the other two Farscape fics I’ve posted, I’d suggest against it. Both of those stories were written in 2001 when I was more or less an infant, and I mostly put them up on AO3 because I thought they were so bad it was funny. Farscape was one of my first fandoms, and I have fond memories of watching the show when it first aired.


End file.
